Untitled
by On The Heavens
Summary: I have yet to come up with a title. A modern day ATLA, though it won't be exactly like the show. Eventual Zutara.


BEEP! BEEP! BEEEEEEEP! BEE-

Katara's hand reached the off button of her alarm before the fourth ring. She was already awake; she just let it sound to humor her. She got up, threw the covers off, and dragged herself to the bathroom next to her sky blue bed. Her wall, which was painted to look like the ocean, would usually cheer her up, but she walked past it without a smile. She slipped off her pajamas and turned on the shower, getting in without checking the temperature like she usually did. It was cold, freezing cold, but she was used to it. She washed herself without care and stepped out of the shower, barely glancing at the mirror. Her make-up tools were thrown around the counter under the mirror, but she didn't dare put make-up on today. She got out of the bathroom and turned, standing before the door to her pint-sized closet. Hanging from the knob was a dreary black dress; it was long-sleeved and went below her knees. It was a plain dress, but acceptable for the occasion. She carefully placed it on before she thought it was time to see her in the mirror.

She looked horrid.

There were dark blue circles under her eyes, making it look like she hadn't slept in weeks. She really hadn't. Her toned mocha skin was now a dull. Her usually bright sea blue eyes were a boring blue. Her hair was a mess, tangled and dry. She looked dead. She felt dead.

She broke her gaze when a knock snapped her out of her thoughts. "You ready?" her older brother, Sokka, grumbled.

"Yeah." She grabbed the door handle. She took in a deep breath. She was **not **going to cry. She has to be strong, for Sokka and dad. For mom. She blinked long and hard, and then opened the door. Sokka stood on the other side. He wore a black polo shirt and dress pants. He was never one for dress shirts. His hands were stuffed in his pockets, his eyes casting down. Katara placed her hand on Sokka's shoulders. She has to be strong.

"It's going to be okay." She said softly. He stared blankly at her for a while. Katara wondered if he even heard her. But a few beats later, he slowly nodded. She stepped in front of him, leading him downstairs. Her feet made a soft pitter-patter, while Sokka's shoes made a hard knocking sound. Katara stopped at the bottom, looking to her right into the kitchen.

Her heart dropped. Her father wasn't there. She knew she should have been used to it, but she would still look every morning and hope he was there.

_He was be the first downstairs in the morning, and made them eggs and bacon. Though, the bacon was burnt -way too burnt- and the eggs had too much salt. He sat down and read the newspaper until Katara's mother came down. She gave him a peck on the cheek and he gave her a bright smile. She sat down and ate the food he made, complimented his "talent". He gave a smug smile to the kids, and told them they just had no taste for the culinary arts. But he didn't see their mother chugging down her cup of coffee, trying to rid of the taste. The kids giggled and their dad gave them a confused look._

Katara blinked. She needed to stop daydreaming. She walked closer to the kitchen. The counter was a mess, the floor had dirt all over it, and the chairs needed to be dusted. The kitchen hasn't been cleaned in over a month. She grabbed the nearest table cloth and turned on the sink, placing it under the water. She turned off the faucet and got started on the table, scrubbing furiously. She had a habit of cleaning when she was moody.

The slow, heavy footsteps of her father made hers stop scrubbing. She threw the cloth into the sink and fixed her dress. When her father, Hakoda, reached the last step, he didn't even look up her. He had his head low as he made a left, and disappeared into the living room. She frowned. He didn't even look at her. She followed him into the room. There, she saw Sokka on the couch with his head in his hands. Katara bit the inside of her cheek. Her father was at the fireplace, looking at the pictures of the family hanging atop it. She sniffled. Her father's expression grim, and her brother; he's never looked so depressed. Katara choked on her tears, knowing her family would never be the same. But she had to try and make it better.

The car ride was silent, and agonizingly slow. But Katara didn't complain. She was thankful.  
>She looked out at the scenery the whole drive, but that one time she looked to the front, they turned on a yellow. Her eyes darkened. Her mother was annoyingly superstitious. One thing she would do was kiss her fingers and place them on the ceiling in the car whenever they turned on a yellow. Something to stop the light from turning red, Katara used to think . She took in a deep breath. She is not going to cry.<p>

"Kya Imiq is a person you can truly never forget." Katara's grandfather, Pakku, started. Though he wasn't very fond of Katara, he adored her mother. 

Katara hated this part of the funeral. She hated every part of the funeral.

"Being raised in Northern Water Tribe by her mother, Kana, made her strong. She had fierce beauty, with an attitude to match. I never truly got to know Kaya, but I know she was one of the most amazing people you could ever meet."

Katara looked down. She doesn't want to be here. She doesn't want to believe this is happening. She never thought, in all her life, of her mom dying. Her mom was always so… It was impossible to think that would happen. But it did.

"Katara?" She blinked and looked up. Her grandfather was standing above her, holding out his hand. With his blue eyes dull and his forehead creased, he told her, "It is time for your speech." Katara had the last word at the funeral. She thought it was best, since her father and brother were too distraught to say anything.

She took her grandfather's hand and he led her to the podium. She stepped up and turned to the people. There were so many faces. Many familiar and many strangers. Her mom was very popular amongst the Water Tribe civilians.

Katara cleared her throat, as it suddenly felt dry. Her face started to heat up. This was not because of a fear of talking to a crowd, this was her fear of the speech. After she finished the speech that was it. Her mom would be truly, officially dead. Forever.

"My mother-… Mom is my hero." She took in a shaky breath. "She was like Wonder Woman to me. She was Wonder Mom. She could do anything. She could fight and heal and was strong. And beautiful. Very beautiful." She looked down. Her fingers played with the edges of the wood, gripping and tapping it. "She was everything to me. She always knew when I was troubled, and would beat up anything that she thought would hurt me." She gave a humourless laugh into the microphone. "My mom is- was an amazing person. She always knew what to say. She loved everyone and everything She always so optimistic, and it rubbed off on everyone." Katara let out a long breath.

"I still can't believe she's gone. I hate waking up every morning and remembering that my mom's not going to be downstairs cooking her special sea prune recipe just because she felt like it." Katara felt several dears run down her cheek. "I miss her so much." She choked out before she brought her sleeve to her face and roughly wiped the tears away. She stepped off the podium and half walked-half ran back to her seat, trying to avoid seeing the pity in everyone's eyes. She looked down at her feet once she sat down, and tried to angle herself so her family wouldn't see her face.

**Ok, tell me what you think. Did you like it? Does it need some work? Does it suck really bad? I'd really appreciate it!**

**Have a nice day! **


End file.
